


delayed gratification

by Blinkingkills (alexwhitewell), plingo_kat



Category: Kingsman: The Secret Service (2015)
Genre: M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-21
Updated: 2015-03-21
Packaged: 2018-03-18 22:49:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,351
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3586899
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alexwhitewell/pseuds/Blinkingkills, https://archiveofourown.org/users/plingo_kat/pseuds/plingo_kat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Merlin makes a wager with Galahad. He loses, but doesn't really mind.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Chapter 2 contains an image by alexwhitewell which is VERY NSFW.
> 
> pushthequorumbutton @ tumblr  
> quorumbutton @ gmail

 

**i.**

Merlin’s heartbeat is loud. So loud.

Harry has a palm pressed between his shoulder blades, keeping Merlin pinned to the mattress; its not necessary, not necessary at all because Merlin stopped being able to hold himself up two near-orgasms ago, when Harry wrapped his fingers tight around the base of Merlin’s cock and _stopped touching him_ , the bastard, until Merlin’s blood cooled a little and it didn’t feel like his skin was too tight anymore, until he’s merely mad and gagging for it instead of begging, writhing, feeling tears prickle at the corners of his eyes.

“All right?” Harry’s voice is a low rasp. He sounds nearly as wrecked as Merlin feels, and maybe later Merlin will be smug and gloat but now it just punches a little noise out of him, a soft and gasping _ah_ \--

Harry’s hips jerk.

Merlin finds the strength somehow to push himself _back_ , to arch his spine and shove himself a little further onto Harry’s cock. He groans a little between his teeth as he’s filled, _finally_ , god, all the way to the root, Harry’s thighs sticking to his, the sharp jut of hip bones pressing against his arse. Harry _grinds_ into him and Merlin’s fingers spasm in the sheets.

 _How long?_ Merlin wonders. His glasses have slipped half-off his face, one arm unhooked from around his ear, sliding down his sweaty nose. How long has Harry kept his like this, on the edge, and how much longer is there to go?

“Fifteen more minutes,” Harry murmurs, as if he’s reading Merlin’s mind. “Fifteen more minutes, love, and I’ll let you come.”

Merlin’s cock jerks; a shudder runs through his body. Harry shouldn’t be allowed to say things like _I’ll let you come_ in that tone of voice.

“All right?” Harry asks again, and starts moving without waiting for an answer. It punches more noises out of Merlin, soft little gasps, _uhn, uhn_ , and Harry’s hands are curling around Merlin’s hips now, pulling him back against Harry’s thrusts.

“So good for me,” Harry says, breathless, and Merlin wants to _scream_. The drag of Harry’s cock inside him is at once too much and not enough; he wants it harder, faster, but this is already more than he can stand; he clenches down on Harry’s next thrust and Harry’s fingers dig in hard enough that Merlin will _definitely_ have bruises the next day.

“You,” Merlin says, and has to pant wetly into the bedspread as Harry pulls out and pushes in, in, _in_. “Y-you.”

“Yes?” Harry is leaned over him now, all along Merlin’s back, nosing at Merlin’s neck. He bites down and _sucks_ , stinging and _so_ good, the pain just enough to sharpen the pleasure. Merlin loses whatever he was about to say to a whine.

“You _bastard_ ,” Merlin manages right before Harry shoves both of them down against the mattress. The pressure against Merlin’s cock makes him choke on his next breath; he can actually feel his pulse beat in his neck and along his temples.

“Oh,” the word comes out as a gasp, but Harry’s voice is perfectly audible. “Now that just isn’t--nn--good manners.”

 _Fuck_ good manners, is what Merlin means to say, but he only gets as far as the first word before Harry worms a hand under the two of them, sliding along the hot skin of Merlin’s stomach, and grasps Merlin’s cock.

 _“Fuck,”_ Merlin repeats. Harry isn’t even stroking, just cupping Merlin’s cock and rubbing, pressing with each thrust of his hips -- it’s the best handjob Merlin has received in his life, the wet head smearing precome on his stomach and Harry’s weight pushing him down against the bed, Harry’s cock glancing along his prostate with every other thrust--

Harry rakes his teeth along the skin of Merlin’s jaw and that’s _it_. Merlin comes all over Harry’s fingers and himself and the bed, blood roaring his his ears and arse clenching around Harry’s cock. Harry fucks him through the aftershocks until Merlin is shivering, shuddering all over with overstimulation, and then Harry makes a wounded noise and comes too.

“...Jesus fucking Christ.” Merlin barely recognizes own voice, low and scratchy like he’s been screaming. “You don’t mess about, do you.”

“Hm.” Harry presses a kiss against Merlin’s shoulder and pulls out, smoothes a thumb overs Merlin’s brow as he winces. “Of course not. Let me get a cloth to clean up.”

Like he could move anyway, Merlin thinks wryly.

Harry is back before things get more than mildly uncomfortable. The gentle swipe of cloth against his hole has Merlin shuddering again, although it’ll be impossible for him to get it up for hours; Harry’s hands are steady but his fingers linger, considering.

“Don’t you dare.” Merlin grits out, unable to stop a brief squirm.

Harry chuckles but he lets it go without any fuss.

“You were fantastic.”

Merlin rolls over onto his back, out of the wet spot and to give access to his front. He looks at Harry for the first time in what feels like a long while: eyes still blown dark, lips red, hair mussed, a soft expression that only Merlin gets to see.

“As if you weren’t,” Merlin retorts. It comes out lazy and affectionate, pleasure-slurred. “That’s the last time I wager my body t’you, if all you’re going to do is fish for compliments.”

Harry leans in for a quick kiss on the mouth. “You lost, fair and square.”

“Shut up,” Merlin suggests, dragging Harry down with an arm around his shoulders. His free hand gropes around for the covers.

Harry laughs. “My pleasure.”

 

**ii.**

**MERLIN GETS #REKT: THE PREQUEL**

“I’m taking a day off next month,” Merlin says. Harry is buried in paperwork; he manages a distracted hum.

“April sixth,” Merlin continues. He’s perfectly aware that planning out one day off a month in advance is ridiculous, thank you, but Kingsman is like that. None of them have lives outside of work.

“Very good,” Harry says, and jots something down with his fancy blue fountain pen. In fact -- Merlin squints a little -- yes, it’s one of their poison pens. He wishes he could be surprised to learn that Harry does paperwork in London HQ with a lethal weapon.

“When was the last time you took a vacation?” Merlin prods. Maybe he should just submit Harry’s own request for vacation into the paperwork pile. Harry probably won’t even notice.

“What?”

Merlin brings himself and his tea mug over. He places the cup right on top of what looks like a picture of the Malaysian head of state.

“Time off,” Merlin repeats patiently, watching Harry mentally switch gears. “Next month. Friday.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Harry frowns. “Take tomorrow off if you’d like, there’s no need to schedule so far in advance.”

“Not me,” Merlin says. “You. I gave myself a month to convince you.”

Harry raises an eyebrow at him. “What makes you think I need convincing?”

“The entirety of my experience in your presence?” Merlin asks. “If you want specifics, there was that time in Milan where you stayed awake for fifty-two hours and broke your arm and _still_ wanted to run the training simulations with the new recruit back in HQ, or the time in Argentina--”

“All right,” Harry breaks in irritably. “You’ve made your point.”

“And?” Merlin prompts.

“And,” Harry says, “I’ll take tomorrow off. Barring any emergencies, of course.”

That’s the best Merlin will get. It’s the best any of them get.

“Thank you,” he says. As he stands to leave, Harry looks up again.

“Oh, Merlin,” he smiles. “How willing would you be to help me clean the house?”

“Not at all,” Merlin raises an eyebrow. “Why?”

“And if I gave you some… incentive?” Harry ignores the question.

“Not even for a fantastic shag.” Merlin glances at the door. Still closed, thank god. “The state of your floors is appalling.”

“Care to wager on it?” Harry props his chin up with a hand, still smiling that little smile. “Give you something to think about in the meantime.”

Merlin contemplates that for a moment.

“All right,” he says. “Fine.”


	2. too hot (hot damn)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> alexwhitewell drew a thing! And it's amazing. (Also VERY NSFW.)
> 
> [blinkingkills](http://blinkstep.com/post/114250662015/art-for-pushthequorumbuttons-fic-delayed) @ tumblr

 


End file.
